Midnight's Temptation

by Donna Grant

“Doona get cheeky with me, lass.”

  Ravyn nudged him with her fist. “You like me being cheeky, old man.”

  Corann’s smile faded as he thought of the Warrior and Druid again. “Have everyone ready, Ravyn. Whether these two are just visiting or no’, I’ll no’ have us unprepared.”

  “I’ll see it done.”

  “Good.”

  She turned to leave, then paused and put her hand on his shoulder. Corann turned his head and met her gaze. Ravyn had an old soul. As a natural born leader, she had no problem taking her place among the Druids of Skye.

  It was her future he fought for. It was hundreds of generations to come that he would die for.

  “There’s been no sign of Jason Wallace,” she said. “Nothing our magic has been able to pick up anywhere in England or Scotland.”

  “Perhaps he left the country.”

  “That’s a possibility, but I don’t think so.”

  Corann sighed wearily. “I’ve a feeling we’ll know the answer soon enough.”

  “There are Warriors fighting evil. The wind has told me.”

  “Aye. Those at MacLeod Castle. Warriors and mies.”

  “They killed Deirdre.”

  He gave a nod. “And Declan. This I know, Ravyn. What’s your point?”

  “Maybe that’s why this Warrior is here?”

  “With a drough?” Corann pointed out.

  Ravyn let her hand slide from his shoulder. “No one knows of us. We’ve kept hidden. If there is an attack here, they’ll not be prepared for our assault.”

  “And if that happens, lass, there’ll be no more hiding for us. Everyone will know our location. There is more evil out there than Jason Wallace.”

  She folded her arms over her chest and planted her feet. “You’ve said that since I was a little girl, except you used Deirdre’s name. Give over, old man. What evil are you talking about?”

  “Pray, Ravyn, that you never find out.”

  “Corann—”

  “Enough,” he said with finality. “Go to the others. I’ll keep watch.”

  Only when Ravyn had walked away did he slump against his walking stick. He was running out of time. If things didn’t work out, he’d have to tell his Druids everything he knew.

  They had to be prepared.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  MacLeod Castle

  Aiden rubbed his eyes and blinked several times before he looked back under the microscope. The celebratory feeling that had rushed through the castle was gone.

  He couldn’t help but wonder if it would ever be there again.

  Aiden leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. The shock from what Fallon had told them of Larena still left him reeling.

  Any joy he felt at Britt making headway in countering Wallace’s X90 bullets came to a screeching halt, leaving him cold and furious.

  So many had been lost in their battles. Duncan, Braden, Fiona. Malcolm and Charon had come close to dying. Larena had died.

  Now they had discovered that while magic might have brought her back, the drough blood used to kill her was changing her.

  Britt threw the pencil she’d been holding across the room. It bounced off the stone wall to land with a quiet brush on the rug.

  She slid off the stool and shoved the piles of paper beside her off the table and onto the floor. They scattered, floating upon the air as if her anger couldn’t touch them.

  Aiden rushed to her. He wrapped his arms around her as he stood behind her. “It’s all right.”

  “No,” she said with a sniff. “It isn’t. Time is running out for us, Aiden. I can feel it, and I don’t even have any magic.”

  He turned her to face him and smoothed her blond hair away from her face to look into her blue eyes. “Then we’ll work until we do run out of time. My parents, my aunts and uncles, didna put their life on hold to give up now. No one is giving up.”

  “If Larena would’ve told us sooner,” Britt said and closed her eyes.

  Aiden pulled her against him so that her head rested on his chest. He held her close, because he couldn’t help but wonder when things were going to come crashing down around them.

  No amount of magic, no amount of Warrior strength could help Larena. The Druids had been with her all day to no avail. How they missed something was wrong he couldn’t begin to guess.

  Everyone, including himself, had assumed she hadn’t been herself because she didn’t want to wait to start a family anymore. Now they knew the truth.

  The castle stones that had always seemed so alive and vibrant now seemed dull and lifeless. Magic lived and breathed through the very stones and earth surrounding the castle. But even the magic seemed to shrink away in fear of what was coming.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Britt said.

  “Neither do I. All we can do is stay on course. If Wallace attacks, let’s have something to use against him he willna see coming.”

  Britt lifted her beautiful tear-streaked face. Her lashes were spiky from crying, but she inhaled deeply and squared her shoulders. “You’re right. I’ll only be in the way during a battle, but I can help in other ways. It’s just … it’s your aunt.”

  “Larena and Fallon will get through this. Larena is a fighter. She wouldna have a goddess inside her if she wasna. Fallon would walk through Hell itself for her. Doona underestimate their love.”

  A ghost of a smile tugged at Britt’s lips. “Let’s not forget Lucan and Cara or Quinn and Marcail.”

  Aiden grunted at the mention of his parents. “As soon as Dad leaves the room, Mum will take Larena’s emotions.”

  “That makes Marcail ill.”

  “Which is why Dad will stay with her as much as he can.”

  “Your mother is smart. She’ll figure out a way.”

  Aiden knew it without a doubt. He didn’t stop Britt when she stepped out of his arms and bent to pick up the papers. The smile he directed at Britt was to help her. There was nothing that could help him, not until Jason Wallace was dead.

  Wallace’s magic was strong, but Aiden had never expected it to tear them all apart. But it was. Slowly, deliberately.

  Intentionally.

  Aiden might have chafed under the watchful eye of all the Warriors and Druids while he grew into manhood. He might have fought against the need to strike out on his own for the four centuries he watched time move without him.

  Yet MacLeod Castle was his home. The people inside it his family. Wallace couldn’t win. After everything they had sacrificed it seemed too cruel for Wallace to win.

  “Aiden?”

  He looked at Britt to find her blue eyes watching him intently as she knelt on the floor, the papers in her hands. “Aye?”

  “I’ll find out what’s wrong with Larena. Just as I will finish this work on the X90s. I won’t let you down.”

  He pulled her up and into his arms. Then he claimed her mouth in a kiss that was savage and fierce. His blood sang with the need to bury himself in her. “And that is just one of the thousands of reasons I love you.”

  “You always know what to say, Aiden MacLeod,” she said with her eyes unfocused and her lips swollen. “Kiss me again.”

  Aiden quickly complied.

  * * *

  Phelan stepped out of the bathroom toweling off his hair to find Aisley asleep. He smiled when he saw she was listening to her iPod. It shouldn’t have surprised him.

  He dropped the towel and walked naked to the bed. They’d be leaving early. It was probably wise to let her sleep regardless of how much he wanted her.

  With gentle hands he removed her shoes and shifted her so that her head rested on the pillow. For several minutes he simply stared at her.

  He might have enjoyed the women he shared his body with over the years. He knew he’d more than liked having them in his arms. Not once had he wanted them around after the pleasure was done. He hadn’t wanted to hurt them, which was why he always left while they slept.

  What was it about
Aisley that changed his way of thinking? He needed to know. The why of it he understood. She scared the shit out of him.

  For a woman to touch him so deeply was a once-in-an-eternity deal. Aisley could be his mate, the one woman in all the lifetimes who was meant for him.

  He wanted to be with her. But a part of him, the part that was unsure of the feelings assaulting him, wondered why he was still near her.

  A Druid. He had not only been with the same woman for several days now, but with a Druid. At one time he considered all Druids worthy of nothing but death.

  Charon had set him right. Good thing, too, or he’d have missed out on Aisley.

  Phelan glanced out the window to see the rain. He dressed and quietly left the room. There were things he needed to get before they set out for the Cuillins in the morning.

  As soon as he reached the lobby he felt it. Magic. Druid magic. He slowed his steps and searched the room. Whoever it was wasn’t in the hotel. Outside perhaps?

  It was the same magic he’d felt a brush of earlier when he and Aisley stopped to eat after the ferry. Phelan had searched but never found the Druid.

  “Following me, aye?” he whispered to himself.

  Phelan ignored the rain as he walked out of the hotel and down the street to the shops. Some had already closed. He reached one just as the young woman was turning the lock. Phelan flashed her a smile, and she twisted her wrist the other way.

  “I just need a few things,” Phelan said when she opened the door for him.

  She smiled, showing dimples in both cheeks. “Of course. Anything I can help you with?”

  “Actually, you can.”

  * * *

  Aisley woke to the smell of hot tea. She cracked open an eye and cringed when she saw Phelan dressed and smiling as he held the cup of tea out to her.

  “I need a few more hours,” she said and threw an arm over her eyes.

  “I let you sleep those hours.”

  This got her attention. She moved her arm and sighed. Then she pushed herself into a sitting position to lean back against the headboard and reached for the mug. She took several sips before she asked, “I thought you wanted to get an early start.”

  “I do. I went out last night and gathered everything you’ll need for the hike.”

  “You mean everything we’ll need.”

  He simply smiled at her statement. “Of course.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Ah. I see. You’re a Warrior, so you don’t need the things a poor mortal does.”

  “Something like that.”

  “I am a Druid, you know. I do have magic. I can use it if need be.”

  “I’ve seen you use it. I know.”

  Aisley stilled, thinking he was referring to the battles between the Warriors and Jason. Then she relaxed when she recalled the two men attacking her in Glasgow.

  “I just want you safe,” Phelan said.

  She looked at the dark liquid of the tea. “Why do I keep feeling as if I need to get as far from Skye as I can?”

  “I think that’s the Druids doing it.”

  “You’ve seen them?” she asked as her gaze jerked to him.

  He shrugged one thick shoulder. “No’ seen exactly. I’ve felt them. They’re here and watching me.”

  “Us.”

  “Us,” he agreed.

  She scooted to the edge of the bed, careful not to spill her tea. Her feet dangled over the side. “Aren’t you worried that they haven’t approached us?”

  “Nay. They’re waiting to see what we’ll do.”

  “I thought you said you’d been here before.”

  “I have. Several times.”

  Aisley rolled her eyes when he didn’t elaborate. “All those times you didn’t sense Druids?”

  “I did.” His smile was slow, telling her he knew he was being difficult.

  “Phelan,” she warned.

  He chuckled. “Everyone I’ve encountered on this isle has been mortal without a touch of magic. The Druids keep to themselves. I’ve felt them, but always from a distance. Whoever is watching us now has gotten closer.”

  “You’re not worried.”

  “Nay.”

  “Nay,” she mimicked as she slid off the bed and walked to the window to look out on the mountains shrouded in mist. “You do realize with all your powers as a Warrior that a Druid can still stop you in your tracks.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Aisley set down her mug on the small table and glanced at the hiking shoes, thick socks, waterproof jacket, and gloves laid out for her. But that wasn’t all. Besides a lightweight, waterproof pant there were four long-sleeved thermal shirts in black and two sweaters, one a cream color made of thick wool. The other was a charcoal gray and lighter weight, but still made of wool.

  “The weather can change by the hour,” Phelan said as he came up beside her. “You’ll be prepared for anything.”

  She lifted her gaze to him. “And you?”

  “I’m always prepared for anything.”

  He gave her a quick kiss before he slapped her butt. “Hurry. I’m anxious to get moving.”

  Aisley shook her head as he walked out of the room to do whatever it was Phelan did. She didn’t waste any more time getting dressed.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Aisley held her gloves in her hand as she walked to the lobby. She wasn’t shocked to find Phelan talking with two other women who were hanging on his every word.

  One of the females, a buxom blonde showing enough cleavage that Aisley could make out the red of her bra, placed a hand on Phelan’s arm.

  Phelan kept talking, but he angled himself so that he moved away from the blonde’s touch. It was obvious, and it was done in such a way that if Aisley hadn’t been watching him, she wouldn’t have known what he did.

  His gaze slid to her. The smile he gave slammed into her, nearly knocking her on her ass. He might be charming those other women, but his look told her he only wanted her.

  Aisley fisted her hand as she recalled the way his thick, defined muscles moved beneath her hand, how warm his skin was. How wonderful his weight felt atop her as he filled her body with his arousal.

  Her breath hitched and her body flushed with need. Phelan wasn’t just sex appeal and rugged masculinity, he was magnetic, hypnotic.

  Irresistible.

  And for the moment, he was hers.

  As if he knew what she was thinking, his blue-gray eyes darkened. His desire was as palpable as her own. The invisible bonds between them strengthened, grew. They tugged at her, drawing her down the last two remaining steps.

  Aisley couldn’t stop her feet from moving her toward Phelan. He was a force unto himself, and like gravity, she was powerless to resist his call.

  She ignored the nasty looks from the two women as she came to stand in front of Phelan. He wore a black long-sleeve thermal shirt that molded to his bulging muscles. Instead of the same waterproof pants she wore, he had on jeans.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She thought about the need pulsing within her. “No.”

  “Doona tempt me, beauty,” he said in a low, seductive tone that made her heart race.

  “Consider this tempting.”

  He stared at her for the longest time before he shook his head. “I can no’ believe I’m no’ throwing you over my shoulder and taking you back to the room.”

  “You’re not?” she asked incredulously.

  “This is a first for me. Just as leaving you sleeping last night was.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have let me sleep.”

  His smile made her roll her eyes. “You needed your rest for today.”

  Aisley decided then and there that the next chance she got, she was going to tease Phelan mercilessly. Let him writhe in need as she was then.

  He handed her a backpack before he slung his own over his shoulder. “Ready?”

  “Not really,” she said and followed him out of the hotel.

  They were halfway to th
e Cuillins before she asked, “What about our stuff in the hotel?”

  “I’ve paid a week in advance. Our things will be fine,” he answered from in front of her.

  Aisley hooked her thumbs in the straps of the backpack and kept pace with Phelan. The sky was clear. For now. How long it would stay that way was anyone’s guess.

  “They’re near,” Phelan said when he reached back to help her up over a large boulder.

  “Great.”

  “We’re no’ the only hikers. They willna approach us for a while.”

  “I’d rather they didn’t approach at all.”

  “Why do you fear them?”

  Aisley glanced at him and shrugged. “Unknown Druids, remember?”

  “They are no’ droughs, beauty. There’s nothing to fear.”

  “Have mies always been so welcoming when they meet a Warrior then?”

  He grinned, a wickedly teasing gleam in his eyes. “Nay.”

  “Oh, so nothing to be concerned about,” she said sarcastically. “I feel so much better.”

  His laughter only made her grit her teeth. She didn’t want to see these Druids. They could know what she was. Then they would tell Phelan and everything would be ruined.

  Aisley looked up at the Cuillin mountains as they started walking again. The mountains rose up to jagged, imposing peaks, some with snow.

  “Those are the red hills,” Phelan pointed out as he slowed for her to get even with him. “They can be differentiated because of their soft rounded contours to their steep sides. The black hills are another matter entirely.”

  “How?” she asked, intrigued. She might joke that Phelan was a walking encyclopedia, but she loved the information he stored in his mind.

  “The peaks of the black hills are connected by a continuous ridge that twists and plunges its way from north to south. Mountaineers from all over the world have come to climb the Black Cuillin.”

  “It’s a good thing we aren’t going there.” When Phelan didn’t comment, she inwardly groaned. “We’re going there, aren’t we?”

  “Aye.”

  “Just a simple ‘aye’?” She tried to hold back the frustration to no avail. When he looked at her over his shoulder with a grin he was trying to suppress she found herself smiling. “You’re laughing at me.”